


An Inconvenient End

by HiseuminGo



Category: USA - Fandom, War - Fandom, civil war - Fandom
Genre: Brotherly Love, Confederate, English Essay, History, Other, Short Story, Struggle, USA, Union, includes civil war, longish, north vs south, originally for school paper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 07:18:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1735925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiseuminGo/pseuds/HiseuminGo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chancey Collin Reidfield, show-girl, soldier, and is pro-Union though born in Confederate country. In trouble with this war, he tries to reunite with family, and avoid bloodshed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Inconvenient End

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story I wrote last year, I really like it since, it has civil war concepts and people and stuff. I just want to put it somewhere, here seems like the place.

“Why I would say sir, there is only one who may suppress the likes of this garish creature.” A young lady with a short fluffy dress covered with dark red roses, twirled around the words in her mouth with a British accent. Her bright blonde hair was parted on the left and was held up in curls at the right side of her head with a blue ribbon.

“And what would these peasants think of such an act? Shall they bow down before me? Must I dirty myself at this moment? I feel it would be a crime against my standards” A man in a blue army uniform; stained with blood, wisped around dramatically as if he were a young woman not wanting to step into the gloomy rain. He spoke in prudishness and looked himself prudish.   

“But how could your coat get any dirtier? A man of the North? Could you possibly defeat this beast?!” The girl pointed towards the large hairy animal she had noted earlier, the crowd laughed. “I say that I shall demolish this beast instead, for I am the only one to keep this animal under control!” Kicking up her heels at the soldier, the crowd clapped and some whistled, she pulled a tall top hat from the side of the stage and placed it on top of the animal. “The lovely South in all of its glory! We shall prevail!!” With a flip of her skirt and her arms raising towards the crowd, she pushed both the Northern soldier and the costumed monster onto the floor.

There were loud whoops, whistles, claps, and cheers; as the curtain closed. The actors made their way to the front of the stage to bow in thanks to the people who came to watch. After the show there was much commotion, citizens with musty old leather boots and badges on their coats, piled into the nearest pub and sang songs of war, while the actors left the scene to go to their changing rooms.

The young lady in the play entered her room and sat down sighing, “I love the theater, but these kinds of plays are so discriminating...” she mumbled to herself. A knocking came from the hallway and the man from before entered in. His hair was matted down so no hair stood up, and the uniform he wore before was gone and replaced with black pants and a long grey coat. “We did good, like always.” the girl looked back at the mirror she was sitting in front of and started to adjust her makeup.

“You’re still in that getup, you can go home now you know,” placing a top hat on his head, he sat down on one of the plush couches that littered the room. “Don’t you want to go back to your family?”

“Sure, if they were any kind of family any more.” She rubbed her throat and gave a little cough. “Can you hand me that water?” She asked pointing towards a pitcher of water on a small table.

“Still practicing eh? You don’t have to keep up that act anymore Chancey. I can guarantee they won’t take you, I mean, why would they want a simple actor to be in the army?” The man stood and gave the water to the girl Chancey.

Taking a large gulp Chancey stood as well, straightening out her skirts. “You know my family, the only reason they haven’t signed me up for the Confederacy yet is because of this. So don’t worry your little head about me Benjie.” Chancey gave a lolita smile and winked.

“Chancey Collin Reidfield, you know that I know that,” the man Benjie pet Chancey’s head, smiled, and turned to leave. “You take care now alright, and have a safe trip home!” Leaving the room Benjie closed the door softly.

“111 miles ain't nothin!!” Chancey yelled after him. Soft chuckles could be heard within the hallway. “Now...” Chancey looked around the room in boredom and started to talk to herself, her light brown eyes flickering everywhere. “Come to, The Kentucky Theater!! Starring the beautiful and magnificent Chancey C. Reidfield!!!” She put up her arms and twirled around as if in front of a invisible crowd; throwing them winks, waves, and small kisses into the air. “Maybe I will go home... hm, maybe” she peered at herself in the full body mirror, light tanned skin, bright blonde hair, light eyes.

She believed that everything about herself was whitewashed, ‘why not be see through?’ she sometimes thought. Quickly changing into more of a work dress, she hurried through the “green hallway” and passed the large stage, to head towards Survivor Pub. Before entering the hall, she tightened her high black boot laces and applied an extra coat of blue lipstick that she “borrowed” from the playhouse. In she went and the huge rush of alcohol and smoke blasted in her direction. Pushing through the huge groups of highly drunk and stoned men was difficult, especially since there was suddenly another woman, besides the waitresses, in the building.

“Ey tere luv!!” One man with muddy boots and wrinkly clothes shouted out at Chancey.

“Jeez, every guy in the South is always downright wasted,” He was ignored, as was every other man who tried to make a pass at her. She headed straight towards the back where there was a small group of actors and actresses meeting up for a small cast party, they all seemed to have already drank their fill and were resting now. When she arrived, one girl named Janice ran up to greet her with a large hug. She wore a long dark blue dress with a small minx cover up, dangling earrings, a large amount of makeup, and braided brown hair that was wound into a bun.  

“You’re late!” Janice exclaimed, she wound around to the others and patted her heart. “How sad, and we were all looking forward to celebrating yet another performance with you!”

“That’s alright, I was thinking about going home maybe anyways.” Chancey sat down on a stool near the crowd, and pondered at her decision. “Yeah, I’m going home anyway, so don’t worry about me!” she gave a few small laughs and let the chatter of the cast fill the corner.

“Well, stay safe ok? It’s quite a far ways away from here right, so don’t let any of them creeper men take you.” A nicely dressed man with thin combed hair joked around and downed another glass of brandy. Kental was his name and he was the manager of the large, Kentucky Theater. “But before you go...” Kental turned a man with a gray uniform, and curly brown facial hair to face Chancey’s direction. “This man is General Braxton Bragg and he came to watch our show today, he has given us wonderful reviews!” The General was about to speak, but he doubled over onto the floor; laughing and regurgitating old food and drink. “Well, good luck and have fun!” Without another care in the world, Kental left the General at Chancey’s feet, leaving it to her to collect this man to his senses.  

“Wait...” Chancey’s voice didn’t reach far enough, all the other cast members turned away; and she felt abandoned. But, as they say, ‘the show must go on!’ She used all her strength to haul the bulky man to a cab outside the pub, and lift him up into it. “Wow, what a pain this is,” she mumbled under her breath. She staggered a second before entering the cab as well.

The driver looked at the scene in a slight amount of amusement and turned away with a small chuckle. Chancey ignored the act and sent the driver towards Lexington, where they would switch to the train; and ride back home. “It’s a mighty far away, Lexington... I hope you have the means to fuel my pockets,” the cab driver hinted at the young lady in the back.

“Don’t worry now, I have more than enough to pay our way.” Chancey sweetened her voice and peered over at the sleeping drunk, slumped over in the cab seat. The next hour and a half went by with loud bangs of tire on gravel; and soon they were dropped off at Crow’s Nest train station in Lexington. “How are you still asleep?” The general snored loudly and was propped against a beam in the middle of the station.

The train came very quickly, it was one of the most modern inventions in the 1800’s. It was fast, held lots of people, and went great distances even at nighttime. There was a huge whip of wind as the train started into the station. Hurriedly, Chancey lifted the general so his feet scraped across the ground, and entered into the large train car that would soon hold too many people to sit down. After plopping down into a seat, Chancey gave a huge sigh, closed her eyes and listened to the whistles and bells that marked take off. She thought to herself ‘it’s cold, very cold, just like the men in this world,’ and nodded off to sleep and let dreams partake her.

  
  


“Help! Help!! Somebody help! My mom and dad have been taken by soldiers of the North!!” A small child with two black pig tails, ran past our house.

I heard her screams and pleas from my bedroom which faced the small city of Middle Creek. I, like many others, didn’t really believe the sayings of street rats who stole. “They aren’t to be trusted” many a grown men and women would say to me. Being so young as I was, trusted the adults and what they told me; like how I am the confederacy and everything the Union does is wrong. I never understood what they meant, but I let myself fall into their beliefs just so as not to be in the way. For some reason, though, I wanted to help out... I guess that’s how I worked all the time. I was concerned about everybody no matter who they were, but I was restricted by my family, the business and the Confederacy.

“Mother, what did that girl mean when she said North? Isn’t that just a direction?” I asked my beautiful mother after I had come downstairs to eat breakfast.

“You wouldn’t understand, right now there are just some bad people wanting to ruin good people’s dreams.” She smiled at me and took a bite out of a large omelette. I felt so happy that I was mom’s son, and knowing that she loved me and Jaemson was even better.

“So, who are the bad people and who are the good people?” I ate up my food quickly so I could go outside and play with the other boys.

“Well, the South are the good people who want to help the country, and the North are the bad people who want to hurt us and the country,” she sneezed into a hankee and put down her eating utensils. I could hear loud shouts, laughs, and screams of what I thought was joy outside... My eagerness showed obviously. “Go ahead and play with your friends, just don’t be out too long, father wouldn’t want you to get hurt by this weather.”

I literally jumped out of my seat, grabbed my coat, and ran outside, giggling, and thinking about all the fun things I would do today. Being 15 was pretty old to be getting excited about this, but I loved the amazing looks I would put on the faces of my friends and maybe even today; I would make Sheridan smile like she does at my brother, but this time it would be at me.

Our house was a little separated from the actual city itself, and whenever I came into town I was greeted by the innkeeper that sat his business at the edge of the city. Today though, he wasn’t there to say hello to me, or to comment on my new red trousers and vest. In fact, there was no one around, but some beggars wallowing in the shadows. I could hear voices though, they expanded to the center of Middle Creek and gave me a small chill.

Quietly sneaking through the buildings, I saw the most disgusting thing in my whole life’s history. There were bodies all over the place and blood, lots and lots of it. The sky had turned a musty gray, it was silent, and I felt like the small buildings around me; were closing in to suffocate me. I saw my friends and their families, the innkeeper, and Sheridan...dead.  The thing that scared me the most, made me shake violently with fright, was that there were confederate soldiers attacking soldiers from the Union and recklessly killing innocent citizens. They slashed at their opponents and hit people who were trying to run away instead. I felt so sick to my stomach, that, the one’s who were on my side... the “good people” were killing us in their rage against Northerners. I froze with horror, staying in the shadows of two buildings, as the number of Southern soldiers died down to almost nothing. The strength of the North was horrifying, yet amazing.

I didn’t move for what seemed to be hours, but I didn’t have to... Something, or someone was moving me into the light, and towards the bloody center of Middle Creek, my home. I felt a large hand grab my wrist and push my back so I fell onto the dirt floor.

There was rasped breathing, “who... is this... kid?” “he looks like the son of a nobleman,” “yeah, he dresses all nice and pretty,” “you think he’s a spy?” “naw, wouldn’t have hung around so long.”

These voices scrambled around in my brain. I tried to stand again, but I fell back down with a foot in my spine. “What? You’re gonna kill me too?! Go ahead! Everyone else is dead, it wouldn’t make a difference if I joined them!” What was I saying? I didn’t want to die, but for some reason I wanted them to see me as unafraid. I felt hot tears running down my face, crying was something I’d rarely ever done, and when I did; it was very small.

“Oh don’t act like that, we ain’t gonna hurt you.” A white bearded man crouched down beside me and lifted me off the ground. My first impression of him was that he was an old prune that was accidentally left out in the sun for too long. “You actually look like you could be of use to us. Don’t you think Colonel?” He turned around and faced a rugged man in blue with a sash around him.

‘Was he the one who pushed me?’ I thought in swirls, and I couldn’t concentrate. How could people who had the ability to brutally murder, spare me? The life of a nobleman’s son was different and I was constantly told that I was special. “Why would you need me?” I sniffed and rubbed my runny nose with my arm.

The man “colonel” walked up to me, and the old man stepped aside after lifting me to my feet... ‘what strength for an old man.’ “I am Colonel James Garfield, we are considering having you return with us, if you have any information on the Confederacy. State your name.”

“Uh, um... I - I don’t know anything about the Confederacy! My na-na-name i-is... um” I still felt scared, but I didn’t exactly fear these people, in fact I kind of liked them.

“Alright son, we don’t want to hurt anyone else if we don’t need to... you can go,” Colonel Garfield gathered himself and his gun, and turned to leave. It was obvious he wanted nothing more to do with me.

What was this? I was stared in the face by the people my family and friends hated so much... They were good people, I could feel it deep down. Whispering a thank you, I took off back home, my mom and dad hadn’t seen what happened yet; would I tell them? The next thing I knew, I was with my father in our house, and I was trying to explain to him how people from the North are good people too... He flared with rage.

“No son of mine will ever speak of the North in such a way! Never!! Do you hear me?!” I had already felt the sting of my mothers hand... now I had to feel the strength of father’s fist, I saw one flash of movement.......

  
  


The eyes of the beautiful woman sleeping on the train, shot open, and she gasped for breath. A tiny drop of sweat ran down her forehead and the faces of strangers crouched around her.

“Are you alright?” One woman with longs lines on her face, attempted to help out, but she was so unable to move herself that she ended up doing nothing.

Chancey’s throat felt dry, she coughed and sat up in her chair. “Ah, yes, thank you very much.” She blinked her eyes a few times to rid herself of  fuzziness.   

The train was just pulling into the station right next to the Middle Creek Centre. Unfortunately, Chancey had to use up most of her strength, hauling the drunkard out and to an inn. It was too late to go all the way home, and she didn’t really want to face her family. After checking into a room, she tossed the colossal onto the neighboring bed and sat down on her own; to start unlacing her boots. Before she knew it, her makeup was washed off, her clothes changed, and was drifting off into sleep... it was 10:43 pm, and there was a mix of something strange in the atmosphere.

 

“Hey! Hey! Hey, who the heck’re you? Where am I?” A loud and annoying voice stirred the air around Chancey’s face.

Her eyes opened slightly, it was so bright in the room, ‘urgh...how annoying.’ The young girl rose up to stretch, “You, are in Middle Creek, you fell flat drunk last night, so they made me take you with me... such a pain” She muttered the last part under her breath and stood up.

“How did I get so far from Louisville and not even know! I know! You kidnapped me didn’t you?!” General Bragg, started to lose his temper, and got red in the face.

“Why in the world would I want to kidnap you? General Braxton Bragg... you must not have listened to me close enough; because I already said that you got flat out wasted on Brandy!!” Chancey started to get even more irritated with the man, her voice started to lose it’s high pitch, and it slowly became the voice of a male. “I didn’t want to bring you here, but if I had left you, I would’ve been marked as irresponsible, I would have to speak with the stage manager, and I wouldn’t have come back here!!!”

There was silence, and surprisingly, no one had yet noticed the yellow lump that lay on the pillow of Chancey’s bed. General Bragg sat back down and held his head in pain. You could tell he was thinking something by the way he was so quiet.

“Alright, I’m sorry, I just didn’t have any information on my whereabouts.” \

“Of course you wouldn’t, you were fast asleep.” Chancey had kneeled on the floor, still woozy from sleep.

“I’m sorry that you had to bring me with you like a suitcase yet I am even more impressed on how you could carry me all this way. Son, you have skills.”

“Son?...” she looked curiously at the man, trying to figure out what he meant. One turn of the head and a gasp from the lips of the once beautiful Chancey Reidfield, and there then stood a foolish looking boy in a night dress. “Oh crap!!” his face started to turn a beet red,‘This is not good, now that someone like him knows!’ Chancey stumbled backwards, lost his footing, and fell flat on the floor.

“Hey, hey calm down, you shoulda just told me you were gay, I bet we coulda figured somethin out.” The General looked away and the poor flustered Chancey started to make a fit.

“I-I’m not g-gay! Ok? I’m not! I just... uh...” gulping, he waited for General Braggs criticism. He felt sick to his stomach and figured that he might as well just stop running.

“Son, dress yourself in regular attire and then make yourself look nice, because with someone like you; we’d find you very useful.”

“...useful?” Chancey didn’t like the sound of that, he really didn’t. Now that his cover was blown he knew someone was going to use him. The worst part, was that he had no idea of the trouble he was getting himself into.

That was 4 months ago though, and now it was the end of February. Men in large tents shivered and shook from the cold. Their boots were lined with ice, and their short hair stood on end. For many, that was the fate of the soldiers in the Union army during that time; but since the untimely revealing of Chancey Collin Reidfield, there have been a few more additions to the military’s recruits of the South. Inside a more sturdy lodging, sat the one man who wanted nothing to do with the war, the confederates, and his position. Chancey had showed many signs of depression during the 4 months of rigorous training and terrible fighting in Sherman’s army. He had undergone 4 whole wars, and many were curious on how he had not yet cracked; Chancey wondered himself as well. Most soldiers either blanked out all signs of sanity, broke down into a depression, or became hungry for blood and war.

The magnificent Chancey, yes, magnificent; even the higher officials were impressed at his strength. He could easily exterminate his opposition in a moment and was sometimes given the title of “The Flash”, or “Bullseye”. When the day General Braxton Braggs brought the simple actor(ess) to the Headquarters of the army, there was enough laughter coming out of the officials to kill a man. Especially figuring out what he had done for the past few years, crossdressing wasn’t exactly something they expected to find in a resume. Already at a rough start, many of his inmates too, mocked him of that fact and pretended he was still a girl. Commenting on his smooth face, unscarred and with no blemishes, and his neat brown hair which would soon become unkempt. Chancey though, didn’t care what they said, he felt more the need of living through this predicament he was thrown into. Every once in awhile he decided to revolt and received a beating every time. He never wanted to be there, he was good but not happy to give his services.

“If only,” he mumbled so no one in the room with him could hear, “if only I had never met that man, no, if I had never been born.” The thought of war disgusted him, yet here he was; forced to play this terrible game of hunt or be hunted. Given a high position and frequently sent out as a spy to the South.

Now it was 1865 and the notorious Sherman’s army was making its way to Virginia to wipe out all other minor Confederate forces. Chancey was dressed in a blue, ironed, Union army uniform and wore a hat with badges stating numbers, 24532, his number. He looked very bold, but had felt the beating hand of generals quite a many times, despite the respect he received from them. He looked around the room. There were four men, including himself, seated in opposite sections of the room, each one acquired a wooden desk and a large amount of paperwork.  Guns were distributed and some, even swords.

Sighing, Chancey stepped away from the window structure and exited outside. It was a dreary sight, the wind blowing, smoking campfires being smoldered, and dark skies filled with black clouds. There was the stench of sweat, dirt, and blood. Screams from the medical tent, and laughter from a small white tent dug into the earth. As Chancey walked by he could hear men saying “What a girl really?! He must be gay then... huh? You think?” He ignored them though, he never really took any harassment to heart.

“Hey! Chance!!” A colored boy with a slumpy blue uniform, ran up to Chancey with a smile.

Chancey knew this boy well, he had helped him many times in battle and every once in awhile, took a beating or two for him. Even though the North was against slavery, it didn’t mean that the people there weren’t discriminatory.  His name was Marcus, he had no last name, and was a rookie of the military. He looked up to Chancey, and always greeted him with a smile or some kind of good news. Sadly he suffered wounds in his hands and had to have three fingers amputated. He was very lucky.

“Oh, hey Marcus. How are you doing? I see your hand is looking better.” he softly grabbed Marcus’s hand and held it up for examination.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t believe it Chance, but they say that if I keep up my good workin, I can get raised up a level.”

“Cool, like a promotion? That’d be nice, definitely better than these tents you have right now.” Chancey let go of Marcus’s left hand and adjusted his hat so the wind wouldn’t snatch it away.

“Yes sir! It’s a mighty cold winter this year... and my roommates haven’t been as nice as you to me.” One look and you could tell that Marcus didn’t like battle either, not many soldiers did, no matter how much happiness he tried to cover it up with.

Chancey gave a small hug to Marcus as he stopped to turn a corner and head a different direction. “You stay safe now okay? I don’t want to hear of your death any time soon...”

“Neither you, my only friend,” They squeezed hands and turned to go opposite directions of the camp. It was silent again and the only sound that echoed, was the sound of boots thumping across the packed, dirt clogged snow. There was not much action during that time, other than the demolition of tiny militias on the way to Fort Stedman. A month flew by like the wind at the burial of a hurricane, but during the time it took to get there; new boots had to be redistributed, hardtack was used more often than usual, and graves had to be dug for the ones who couldn’t survive the weather or the battles. Snow was still on the ground, and Sherman’s army was about to fight their last sweep out war.

Chancey, who marched at the front of the battalion; but behind the Colonel and Commander, felt a queasy feeling in his stomach. A large gust of wind blew his hair around and made him shiver. ‘uh, mom died from the cold too... will I?’ Chancey thought and shook his head to remove the image of the memory of his mother.

She was laying on a large plush couch and was covered with blankets. Her face was very pale and drained of life, her once beautiful brown hair had started to turn a dark grey. She was coughing blood, and didn’t look once at the two boys standing right over her. One dauntless and the other poignant. She stared at her dark blonde haired husband till her last breaths. “Never let them succeed.”

Since that day, Chancey’s father frequently went in crazed rage over the North’s affairs, he wanted his brother and him to join the Confederate army and completely destroy the Union, ‘Did he think that one of the servants poisoned mother?’ the younger and weaker of the two brothers thought many times. Each time, the older brother would know something to say to comfort the younger, sometimes it was “Father just loved Mother very much, and blamed the first thing that came to mind.” ‘Yes, but then why does he beat me with no reason?’ “He just needs some rest, he’s been working too hard lately,” ‘But he comes home with people I don’t know.’ There was never clarity between the family, and soon, the brothers were even separated. One hid behind sexuality, and one stepped out to into the open willingly. Later, without their knowing, one wore blue and one wore grey.

Chancey stopped thinking about the past and chuckled, ‘Father never did have time for weaklings like me.’ he thought to himself, slightly grinning at the ground.

They stopped moving, there was coughing and sneezes. Men loaded their guns and continued on to wander around the fort. There was barely room for one word to get out of a soldier before the sound of a shot spinning straight through his corpse. That one bullet, sent the whole battalion of soldiers out onto to the field. Already, warriors from both ends were felled by their opponents. Many of the Union’s soldiers headed away from the heated battle to pursue reinforcements at the opposite end of the fort.

Though Fort Stedman was small, Chancey was surprisingly able to find a clear area, safe enough to actually sit down and breathe. ‘God I hate this, I hate this, I hate this!’ Hearing the screams of dying souls right next to him made him unable to move. “I hate this! I hate it so much... why can’t we be done with this stupidity?!” hot tears started running down his face, he clenched his jaw and punched at the ground with his fist.

A bullet whizzed past his skull and he shot back, taking down the opponent in one fell swoop. Heart pounding, five more soldiers were taken down. He was stained with their blood, just like the other lives he had burned away, he had the blood of innocent men on his hands. All of it was for slavery, the freedom of slaves, one opinion against the other. Falling back down to the ground, he wiped his face of tears and reloaded his rifle. A pair of black boots stepped in front of him, and he looked up. The face of Jaemson Mosby Reidfield, loomed over Chancey like a grizzly bear over a rabbit. He wore a similar outfit in grey, one look and you could tell that there were many decorations once.

The older brother’s  rifle  was pointed straight at the younger, but before he could fire, Chancey speared him to the ground. “Brother, what are you doing?” Chancey struggled to hold him down, “What are you attacking me for?!”

Jaemson, unfazed, answered simply; “It is obvious little brother, you are now a soldier from the Union, and I from the Confederacy. You support a different cause than I, and now we are opponents.”

Chancey grabbed the gun from Jaemson and threw it to the side. “Why does that matter!? We’re brothers and family shouldn’t be fighting each other! And you know that what you believe in isn’t yours! It’s father’s!!” Tears started to roll down his face once again.

“You were and always will be weak Chancey... you’ll never catch up to me.” Throwing Chancey off of him he pulled out a sleek steel sword and stabbed at the ground.

Chancey blocked the blow with his own sword and threw his hand aside. ‘Where has he gone? Where has my only real piece of family, disappeared to?’ he thought with disbelief. “I might always have a weak, but I’ll still try to make myself better with every opportunity I can take.” Swinging his sword, his brother, dodged and attacked at same force, and at the same speed.

“God Chancey, just die already!! I already lost the family I was going to protect. You left to be some pitiful actress, mother died, and father left zero piece of sanity in his soul! Now I can forget about everyone, only if you disappear too!” his sword hit his mark with a strong thrust, into Chancey’s right abdomin.

Chancey grimaced, he pulled away and firmly placed his left hand on the wound. He too, made his target, an inch below Jaemson’s heart. Falling to their knees, they both clutched at their wounds. Breathing hard, Chancey stood up and aimed his sword right at his brother’s heart and plunged downward. Hitting their marks, both swords hit home, and blood was splattered across the thin layer of snow. The thud of the two brother’s bodies hitting the ground was a soft feather landing on a bed of nails. Chancey swiveled his head and looked at his brother, he started to cry even more. ‘What a baby I am...’ he thought, and reached out to grab Jaemson’s hand.

“Chancey... we can never... ne...never, uhh...” Jaemson, took a breath so he could continue speaking. “I don’t even... know why... I hate the Union, and you... I just feel... like I... am supposed to...”

“That’s okay Jae... you see... everyone else... was doing the same thing... I almost followed them too... maybe, I would’ve turned out like... father...” The stench of blood washed itself in the noses of those still alive, a fire had started and now blazed near the main battlefield. Chancey released his grip on his brother, and forced himself to turn onto his stomach. He closed his eyes, and tried to listen for his brothers voice over the shouts and gunshots,  “Jae...”

“hm?... what... is it?...”

“We’re never... gonna... fight again... you know that?...” Chancey stifled a small grin.

“Yeah... I’m so... ha.. ppy...for...you... Cha..nce” he spoke his last words so quietly, that if you were to pass on to the other side you would hear it as a scream. There was no more noise from Jaemson Mosby Reidfield. He was just a body now, cold and grey, he held no signs of the fear of death before perishing.

‘I don’t have to fight anymore.... brother, we were separated for what seemed like a lifetime... and all for this....’ “All men, are... created equal.... to believe in life.... liberty.... and the pursuit... of happiness...” Chancey, so young, so innocent, fell to the blade of his own brother. The world was not kind to him, America was like unlinked chains, just waiting for someone to weld them together. His eyes, closed, created a perfect picture, of smiles and tears of joy awaiting him.

The darkness became closer and closer, and soon his eyes were faded to a dull grey. He was now just a limp body, who fought when he didn’t want to; who was forced into oblivion and separated from his most loved family. There was no longer any need for Chancey Collin Reidfield to worry about fighting... but with every life taken, his sacrifice was needed and respected even more.


End file.
